Knowing Loneliness
by BundyShoes
Summary: He's always relied on himself. No one has ever cared for him, and he knows this. So its a bit of a surprise when the compulsive liar tells him she cares and means it.


John's lived his whole life without anyone giving a shit.

It's just a fact.

He's known that since he was small, when his teachers looked the other way when he walked in with black eyes and a bloody nose. Everyday he's basically lived alone. Maybe in the beginning his mother had cared, but after the millionth hit his father dealt her, the love was beat right out of her. His so called friends don't even give a crap. They're just potheads anyway, only caring if he brought more dope, or not. They'd leave him for a hit and two cents.

So he's lived knowing this, feeling the anger and despair welling up inside him at the injustice and unfairness of it all. And then when he felt it reaching new heights, to the point of getting drunk and pissed off, he gets scared. Because he'd catch a look of himself in the mirror and realize…he's gonna be like his old man.

Most people, he knew, would use this as an excuse to be better. He used it as an excuse to be bitter.

So he got in more trouble, snarked off more often, pissed off Dick more, and got high more. He gave up on ever being normal, or having a future, because what was the point if he was going to be just like that son of a bitch? He settled for just the small wisps of 'happiness' he could and left before it could disappoint him.

He had turned to sex for a short time, that's where all those pictures in his wallet came from. And for awhile, it worked, he could forget his troubles, he could reach that happiness and bliss. But one time, he had been horribly drunk, and he had just escaped a fight with his dad, and the girl just wouldn't shut up, and he had swung. And when the red cleared from his eyes and he saw her on the floor holding her swelling cheek, he had fled.

He stayed sober for about a month afterwards. No sex, no school, he hid in his shithole room down in the basement, only leaving for meals and the bathroom.

He finally got back into the cycle when he went to a party, the drinking and smoking starting right back up. He didn't have sex though. He just couldn't.

So he lived his day-to-day, doing the same thing over and over. Nothing ever changed; he relied on himself and no one else. And nobody cared.

He didn't expect them to.

So when he had to go to that Saturday detention, it was just part of his normal schedule. He even had his own chair and everything. So he wasn't expecting anything.

It was entertaining to rile up the princess and piss off the jock. The brain was interesting to talk to. And the basketcase…she reminded him to much of himself.

But he hadn't lied. He had seen her before. She was always sitting by herself, drawing and watching others. Always watching, never joining. Nobody seemed to care, and she didn't seem to mind.

It unnerved him.

So he focused on Red. He thought maybe he could fit sex back into his schedule, since nothing this chick could ever do would mean anything to him. He spent most the day poking jabs at sporto, because the idiot bothered him so much with his high-and-mighty attitude. Because when it came down to it, the jock was just like him, with a shitty father. The only difference being that his dad hit him mentally and emotionally, not physically.

Things went on like that for most of the day. He knew pretty easily that he'd forget this group, because there was no doubt in his mind that they wouldn't remember him. So he walked around the halls with them, running away from Dick because he was reaching for that small amount of 'happiness', and sacrificing himself for them because it was easier that way. He'd get blamed in the long run for it anyway.

Dick's fucking speech bothered him more than he's admit. It hit so close to home that he could feel a bruise forming. So he knew he needed his fix of 'happiness'. He snuck back to the library through the vents, using his pot as his excuse. Getting high was getting high.

He didn't open up to Red, because she didn't need or deserve to know. So he said those girls were his old flames, knowing they were only one night stands. He didn't even know their names for Christ's sake.

And then he got high with the brain and red, because that was expected at the time. The brain was surprisingly funny though, and easy to be around. John was surprised to find himself actually enjoying this nerd's company. He wondered if this is what friendship felt like.

But he ignored that, and took another drag, loosing himself in the smoke. The hate and despair welling up inside him stronger than ever. He was in a mood by the time they had all settled in a circle.

He felt, rather than saw the basketcase sending glances at him. He wasn't looking at anyone, ignoring these people sitting around him. If he wasn't going to see them later, why should he care?

She tried helping him out. She starting riling red up, trying to get her to admit whether she's a whore or a prude. He found it amusing that basketcase turned out to be a nympho. She's weird enough, he supposed.

And then when red finally blew up, admitting to doing nothing, he felt something indefinable nudge his anger away when the basketcase admitted that she wasn't a nymphomaniac, she was a compulsive liar. She used her outcast status to get the information she wanted.

And then they started sharing stories, and he couldn't help it when he yelled at red, she just pissed him off to no end with her holier-than-thou hypocrisy. And even though it wasn't his fault that he made fun of her, it didn't stop the small twinge when the basketcase scolded him for making fun of red.

And if he let out a bit of anguish when he reminded them that they didn't care if he lived or died, that wasn't his fault either. He's human, he can admit that.

When the brain brought up Monday, the only thing he could think was the inevitable. There was no way in hell these people would stick together. Half of them were full of shit and the other half were outcasts.

Red just backed up his theory, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep the insults in. The way she said it, was the embodiment of his thoughts, of his fears. And the words just flowed out his mouth, and it was like hitting that girl all over again. Except this time, he watched as the tears built up and the punches hit.

But he realized he didn't care. Because she didn't care, and nobody else cared, so why should he?

"My God…are we going to be like our parents?" Sporto whispered into the awkward silence that followed his tirade.

He felt drained, and since he couldn't chew him out as well, he turned away. He didn't want this conversation, he never did.

"It's inevitable."

Basketcase.

"When you grow up, your heart dies."

He didn't have to look to know that she was watching him. He didn't want to look. He almost hated her for her words. He resented them. They felt like facts and he hated it.

"Who cares?" he spit.

A short silence.

"I care."

Her voice cracked, and sorrow colored her words.

Something closes in his throat, and he feels his heart wrench. His anger and despair is washed away by an unknown feeling. He thinks its happiness but can't be sure. So he looks over, and is immediately caught by her gaze. He sees something in her eyes, and he suddenly realizes what it is.

It's truth.

_**I was making a multifandom video and was gonna use Bender/Allison, so when I was going through one of the scenes (where they're sitting in the circle and sharing stories, you know what I mean) I cut all the parts where they're talking or looking at each other (which is actually a lot) Then I watched the part where she says the dead heart thing, and then basically says she cares about Bender, their expressions just blew me away, and I had such inspiration that I stopped in the middle of making the vid and started typing. That part just made me wanna cry, because it literally the most shipper part between those two. He looked so affected by her words, and she looked so close to him, it just made my heart clench at the loveliness of the relationship.**_

_**Anyway, random long drabble-y thing. Wanted to get it off my chest. :)**_


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